A/N: As always, thank you for taking the time to read and review Unsinkable! I especially want to shout out to those of you are awesome enough to leave me feedback with every single chapter I write. You're the best and I love going through each comment to see what you liked best so I can continue to give you what you want...within reason, haha. Also, so many of you loved my Wine and Dine chapter. It was my favorite to write so far, and I had a good chuckle doing it, lol. Now without further ado...

I know that Derek is being dramatic.

He's pouting like a giant baby because he has failed to get his way.

It's hard to imagine that Derek is giving up so soon. Granted, the whole 'saving the Titanic' mission we chose to embark on is suddenly feeling bleak and pointless. I do understand where he is coming from.

After our disastrous encounter with Bruce Ismay yesterday morning, Derek spent the rest of the day sulking on a nearby bench. I tried sitting in silence with him, but as the minutes ticked by, I couldn't force myself to sit still any longer and let the inevitable happen without even trying to do something.

And I do know that it's inevitable. I'm not in denial.

It's very doubtful there is anything we can do, and I'm not sure we ever stood a snowballs chance in hell from the very beginning.

I left Derek's side around noon, determined to do something. Anything! I chose to do some more digging around and talk to those responsible for that fateful night. I'm sick and tired of trying to use my looks to get what I want, but women in 1912 can't even vote yet. If you don't have a pretty face, you have nothing. I should count my blessings and be glad that these men are halting in their tracks to talk to me.

Well, everyone except Ismay that is. He is too full of himself. His ego is so immense that I doubt any woman is capable of swaying his ideas.

I was able to bat my eyelashes and speak to Fredrick Fleet and Reginald Lee. I caught up to them as they were descending from the crow's nest a little after noon. They assured me that they were trained properly and kept a vigilant eye for every and all hazards. That I shouldn't worry. I was in good hands.

I wish everyone would stop telling me that! I'm not in good hands. No one on this ship is safe and everyone is acting like barging into an ice field is no big deal.

I know that it's not necessarily Fleet and Lee's fault. They will end up doing the best they can. I mean, you can't see an object when it's shrouded in darkness until it's too late.

It's actually Jack Phillips that I need to talk to. You know, that guy who ignores every single warning of ice that comes in the night we sink. But I can't gain access to him. The Marconi room is more off limits than any other part of the ship. It's located where the officer's quarters are and I would need the biggest miracle ever to sneak in there and not get caught. I'm not sure my looks could keep me out of handcuffs if I tried to waltz in and tell the wireless operators how to do their job.

It is now April 13th. By tomorrow night, it will be over soon.

Derek and I are currently hanging out at the stern of the ship. It's a gorgeous day out and I'm leaning over the railing to take a look at the propellers below me. Yes, you heard that right…and not because that was Rose's lame excuse when she tried to cover up her suicide attempt. I'm a huge history buff and I heard that one propeller is sixteen feet in length. How cool is that!?

I'm too high up to get a great look, but I can see them churning the water below me, popping out of the ocean every single second. It's kind of fascinating to watch.

The blood is beginning to rush to my head, so I stand and hop off the barrier.

When Derek chose to stop trying to save the ship, he started another mission entirely. One that's way more impossible.

It's kind of cute watching Derek dip his pen into the inkwell sitting beside him as he writes on a piece of paper in his lap. He has a serious look on his face as he writes down mathematical equations that don't even exist and lists that fail to make sense.

He's working out this whole time traveling thing. Where do you even begin figuring something like that out?

He must sense me staring at him because he raises his dark eyes to look up at me, squinting in the bright sun. I'm wearing the same white dress I had on yesterday because there aren't many options of clothing to choose from. Declan and Bessie's daughter, Imogen, had married recently and followed her new husband to America where they plan on opening a tobacco shop in New Jersey.

Being their only child, Bessie couldn't handle the separation, so they chose to move to America to be with her. I understand completely. It's just sad that their luck is so rotten that this is the ship they chose to sail on.

It's absolutely devastating.

Anyway, Bessie had packed only a few of her daughter's dresses that Imogen had left behind before leaving for America. A gorgeous gown that I wore on our first day, the white dress I'm currently wearing, and a blush colored flowy dress I'm going to wear for tomorrow night. That last one is my favorite, and if I'm going to be swimming in the Atlantic Ocean, I want to wear something extra pretty.

"You look nice today," Derek says, cutting into the silence that has been lingering between us all morning.

Wait? What?

Did he just pay me a compliment?

I narrow my eyes suspiciously. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. I didn't do anything," he shrugs with indifference, sighing heavy before turning back to his useless piece of paper. "Do I need a reason to tell you that you look nice?"

I'm not convinced he doesn't have some kind of hidden agenda.

"Thank…you," I say with hesitation. Still, I find myself suddenly waiting for a balloon full of maple syrup to drop from the sky and fall into my windblown hair.

In the past, Derek has used words like 'yuck,' 'ew,' and 'it's not Halloween' to describe my outfits. He's never told me I looked nice before.

One time, I cried my eyes out when he and Sam came into the kitchen and I had just gotten done working out. I was sweaty and I knew I didn't look my best. But he said I was 'gross.' I fell into a box after that, spilling milk all over me. Sure, I liked Sam and was absolutely mortified over the entire situation. But it was Derek's disgusted words that made me cry. He drove me insane on a daily basis, but his hurtful words stung much deeper than they ever should. I soon realized that I don't want Derek to think I'm revolting.

What does it matter if I want someone to think I'm pretty? If I want Derek to think I'm attractive? I know it shouldn't matter, but it does.

Derek takes the paper in his hands and crumbles it with his fingers. He stands, walking slowly towards me with a sobering and troubled look. As he inches closer to me, my heart accelerates, and I step back further until my back is pressed against the railing. Once again, the confusing thoughts and feelings I've been having about Derek baffle me further.

I shouldn't be having these thoughts. He's my stepbrother!

Plus, Emily would totally kill me.

But in all honesty, my best friend has barely popped into my mind over the last few days. I'm ashamed to admit that no one has surfaced in my thoughts, aside from my Mom. I desperately need my Mom.

But being here with Derek…it hasn't been so bad.

He takes the wadded-up ball in his fist, tossing it over the side and into the sea below. It instantly disappears. Once again, it appears he's given up. I don't know what to say to him to make him try harder. I'm at a loss for words…which never happens.

I always have something to say. Especially when it comes to Derek.

I can't help but gaze up at him, focusing on the jaw that is working furiously, his features troubled. I want to take away his worry, but how can I do that when I'm scared myself?

Derek turns his head to stare down at me, and suddenly, his distant look softens considerably as he focuses on me. He starts to say something, but stops, swallowing hard in the process. He surprises me when he lifts his hand, gently taking a stray hair that was blowing wildly in my face between two of his fingers and tucking it behind my ear. I instantly feel the goosebumps burst from my skin at the smallest contact.

I'm waiting for him to take his hand away, but he lingers, and I find myself enjoying his touch far too much.

Derek drags one finger down the side of my cheek, lightly grazing my flesh. Surprisingly, I don't want him to break contact. I want him to say whatever it is that is speaking through his eyes. The way he is touching me now…that's not the way you touch your stepsister that you claim to hate.

But now that I think about it. Derek has never actually said he hated me.

Those words have fallen from my own lips more times than I care to admit. Right now, I'm not so sure I ever meant a single word of it.

I was always angry, annoyed, or hurt in the moment.

I want to ask him that one burning question that's been swirling around in my mind ever since he jumped in to save me, sacrificing himself. Why? Why would he ever die for me? But I'm scared to hear his answer. What if it's not the response I desperately want to hear. What if he only did it out of obligation and not because he has some deeper emotion for me, hidden beneath his hard exterior.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. I was just so fucking pissed," he begins, giving a short laugh before sobering once again, looking deep into my eyes. He moves closer to me, and for a moment, my breath hitches and I can't breathe. I'm not sure what I'm expecting to happen. I can't even allow my mind to go there.

He briefly looks down at my lips and I place my hands against his chest. I'm not sure if I'm trying to stop him or bracing myself for whatever comes next.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Princess," Derek says, his tone more serious than it's ever been.

I love when he calls me Princess. It's a guilty pleasure of mine. He started calling me that in a condescending way soon after we met, but it quickly turned into a nickname that I loved to hear falling from his lips.

I know that Derek plans to put my safety before his own, and I can't help but think how romantic that is.

"Okay, here's the plan…"

I can't believe Casey and I are stooping this low, but what other choice do we have?

When I told her I've pretty much given up yesterday, I said it in a fit of anger. I was pissed off that we can't get anyone to listen to us. But I didn't actually mean it. After all, we still have a little over a day left and time is of the essence.

I'm still reeling over our brief touch from about ten minutes ago. I couldn't help but reach out and tuck her silky hair behind her ear, running my finger down her smooth skin. I was so close to telling her how I felt…so close to kissing her right then and there, that I'm still dizzy from the whole encounter.

When I began to lean in, she put her hands against my chest. I know that she had a feeling it was coming. I'm a little disappointed that she chose to put a barrier between us instead of leaning into me.

If it weren't for the lusty look in those baby blues of hers, and the way her breath was shaking, I would have been completely devastated.

But I know she wants me.

She's just trying to deny her feelings.

I understand all about that, but at least I now know she's capable of falling for me. I'm confident it's going to happen.

So instead of pulling her in for a kiss, I decided to make a vow to her; that I wouldn't let anything happen to her. I fully intend to keep that promise…I hope.

Even if it means following her ridiculous plan.

We remained unmoving for several more seconds before she got a mischievous look in her eye, took me by the hand, and led me clear to the other side of the ship. 900 feet is a really long way to speed walk, let me tell you.

And now here we are, Casey's nose pressed up to the glass, peeking inside at the guy steering the ship. He's not the one who will be at the wheel when we crash, but that doesn't matter.

I'm trying to focus on what Casey's saying. Since when does the keener become the schemer? She's tried to pull off 'missions' in the past, but she kind of sucks at it. She's all dorky and shit when it comes to planning stuff that can get us in trouble.

She starts speaking, her voice slightly muffled by the glass smooshed up against her face. I can't help but grin at how cute and childlike she looks.

"I'm going to go in there and distract him while you slip in behind me and take the helm, steering us to the left. After it looks like we've turned enough, swing it back to the right just a bit."

"You want me to steer the ship?" She wants me to steer the fucking Titanic! The whole plan sounds freaking stupid, but I can't help but feel excited as shit. The guy in me is itching to take the wheel. On the other hand, I don't want my girl flirting with some other dude.

Granted, that's all she's been doing since the second we woke up on this doomed ocean liner. But those guys have been like forty years old, all the way up to totally ancient. I'm not going to get all jealous over her flirting with some senior citizen.

Except she did tell me about those crow's nest guys from yesterday, but I wasn't around to witness it. They got lucky.

The man at the wheel looks like he's in his mid-twenties, but he's still young enough for me to pick a fight with over my woman. I can't necessarily voice my concern to Casey though, considering she doesn't know I've already staked my claim on her.

She'd pull that 'I'm no one's property, you don't own me, I can do whatever the hell I want,' bullshit.

I know. I know.

I'm a male chauvinistic pig who has a problem letting a woman take over and be her own person. I've heard it all before. But I'm working on it.

I really am!

So, sue me if I have the sudden urge to take care of Casey and put her in a plastic bubble.

But I'll never actually say that to her.

"And how do you plan on distracting him long enough for me to steer the ship?" I ask, peering through the glass next to her. I can't keep the humor from my voice. The whole situation is so stupid, but if it's what Casey wants, who am I to deny her?

"I…I haven't figured that out yet."

"Great," I say with a heavy sigh. "Doesn't it take like a minute to get the ship to turn even a little bit?"

"I think it is something like 37 seconds until we hit the ice burg after spotting it. And since that barely misses the front of the ship, we need a good minute I'd say."

"Well, try not to be a dork when you flirt."

"I'm not a dork when I flirt!" she barks back, offended I would even suggest such a thing.

"Uhhhh, yea you are Miss 'I fall into boxes whenever my crush is around."

I notice Casey's face fall at the reminder of when Sam came over for the first time after our parent's got married. I may have harassed her a bit and called her 'gross,' but fuck, she looked all hot and sweaty with her flat stomach glistening. I wanted to run my tongue on her body, but that may have been a little awkward given the situation.

However, the laugh I had after she fell into Marti's box was genuine. She's a total nerd, but I love her for it.

She chooses to ignore my comment. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Good," she says with a firm nod of her head. "Get down."

Casey pushes me on my shoulder until I relent and sit on my butt. She stands in that moment, fixing her windblown hair before tapping lightly on the glass. I look up at her and notice the pretty smile she gives the guy, waving to him in the daintiest way ever.

Behind her hand, she says, "He's coming over. Slip inside when I have his back turned to you."

The door swings open and Casey instantly begins to charm the hell out of him, talking like she's interested in this doofuses job of steering the ship. When she's inside, I peek through the glass and wait. The guy is talking to my girl, taking her around the small room and showing her mechanism after mechanism. At one point, he even lets her steer, but it's not like she can swing the wheel the other way while he's standing right there looking at her.

I catch her sneaking a peek my way. I wave my hand, telling her to take the guy over to the other corner somehow so we can get the show on the road and get the hell out of here.

Several minutes later, she finally starts walking to the back of the room, and as suspected, the guy follows close behind her.

It's now or never. I'm tempted to choose never.

I quietly slip inside, making sure to stay down as I make my way over to the giant wheel located in the center. Casey is giggling, and it sounds so fucking fake that I want to tell her to shut the hell up. But quartermaster guy, I think that's what Casey said they were called, is eating up everything my pretty stepsister has to offer.

I roll my eyes, standing straight up before taking hold of the wheel within my hand.

Cool.

This is about the best damn thing I've ever done. I swing it slowly to the right…and then I let it fly to the left like I'm on fucking Wheel of Fortune! I'm watching it spin and spin.

Really cool.

"Not so hard!" I hear Casey behind me. I catch the wheel, stopping it midspin. Her outburst causes the man to turn his body.

Shit.

But then something happens. Something happens that makes me want to brake one of these handles off of this damn wheel and shove it through the guys heart like he's a vampire.

Casey grabs him by the head, bringing him down for a kiss.

That was so not part of the plan.

Keep you're cool Venturi, I tell myself.

I bend my neck side to side until I hear several cracks, working at keeping my anger under control. After all, she's locking lips with another man for the greater good of everyone aboard the ship. I can handle her smooching another guy for a few minutes while I save the day.

Even though I've never kissed her myself.

Even though I tried to kiss her fifteen minutes ago, and she totally wouldn't let me.

Okay, now I'm pissed.

Gritting my teeth together, I turn back to the helm and continue steering the ship sideways. I can hear the disgusting moans coming from behind me.

The nasty guy kind that ruins porn for every man alive.

"What's going on in here!?"

Ohhhhhhhh fuck.

I turn around to see an older guy barging into the room, his gaze passing momentarily on each one of us. Just then, Lover Boy notices me holding onto the wheel, and our whole cover is blown. He has to know that Casey was only using him so that I could gain access to steering the ship.

"I…I don't know, sir! Sorry, sir!"

The man sounds like an absolute pussy. I bet he kisses like one, too.

"The two of you stay here while I alert the authorities!" the guy demands of me and Casey. What is it with all the threats around here?

I momentarily see the look of fear on Casey's face and I know there is no way in hell I'm going to let anyone lock my Princess up.

I survey the situation, and before I give myself anytime to think it over, I yell.

"Run!"

I run forward, knocking into the man blocking the doorway. I clear a path for Casey and me, and to my relief, she follows.

I take her hand, sprinting down the boat deck, our shoes clanking against the wooden floor. I can't help but laugh. This is the best time I've ever had with Casey and it only took a trip on the Titanic and breaking some massive rules to do it.

I can hear someone behind us, demanding for us to stop, but we keep running as the adrenaline courses through our veins.

Somehow, we find ourselves inside the first-class dining room at two in the afternoon. I let go of Casey's hand to slide down the grand staircase banister until my feet hit the bottom step as I try to avoid the stupid statue that's at the end of the railing. She's laughing so hard that she nearly loses her footing running down the stairs after me.

I take her hand once again and soon we are bursting through a pair of double doors, and down a stairwell. We finally take a minute to stop and catch our breath. I can still hear them coming. I cover Casey's mouth with my hand and gaze upward, waiting until the footsteps fade away.

It's not until I'm positive we're in the clear that I look down at Casey.

Her blue eyes are searching my face and somewhere in between the madness, her laughter has faded. My own smile slowly drops as I watch her reach up, taking my hand away from her mouth.

Suddenly, she leans towards me with hesitation, as if she's waiting for me to be the one to pull away this time. She will be waiting forever if that's the case, because I'm locked into place, waiting for her to make her next move. I brace my arm against the wall behind her head, gazing down at her sweet lips as I watch her eyes slowly drift shut.

I'm not sure how it happens? I'm not sure why?

But I'm sure as hell not going to complain about it.

Casey reaches up and draws me down to her, our lips crashing into a fiery kiss that ignites my entire body.